Too Much Truth
by HermioneGrangerTwin
Summary: "I knew she would crack. I just didn't expect her to crack so loudly." Ron breaches her silence. During DH. R/Hr.


Too Much Truth

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A/N: Inspired by Coldplay's "The Scientist".

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It started when Harry went on watch.

As soon as he left the tent, I put a Silencing charm on the opening that served as a doorway. Hermione immediately appeared to pore over Beedle.

"You're going to have to talk to me at some point."

She didn't reply, but a derisive sniff served as a response.

"Alright. You've left me no choice: I will have to tell you why."

I know she was listening, because she raised an eyebrow at this. I decided to go from the logical reasons to emotional reasons.

"You'll have to talk to me because we're in a war. Eventually, we'll be in a battle and you'll have to speak to me."

She conceded that. I could see it in her eyes.

"Also, you'll have to wake me up after your shift."

Disagreement.

"I know you can shake me, but as you know, I am a very deep sleeper."

In point of fact, this wasn't quite true anymore. I woke up every time she spoke while I was asleep. I woke up when she moved past my bed or yawned in the early morning. But I wasn't about to tell her that.

Her facial expression did not change. She had, in appearance, gone back to her book.

"You'll talk to me because you'll need something from me. It won't be necessary, but more efficient and convenient. And efficiency is important in these times."

She said nothing still.

"And despite how you're acting right now, you'll talk to me because I'm your best friend."

She released a humorless laugh under her breath.

"You feel comfortable with me. You can yell at me when I piss you off and you know you can tell me anything. You don't have that with Harry. You keep things from him because he doesn't need to carry everything, but also because you don't _want_ to tell him everything."

She looked up at me, really looking at me for the first time since the night I came back.

"And you'll talk to me because you know I care about you."

"No!" she yelled, eyes burning. "You don't."

I knew she would crack. I just didn't expect her to crack so loudly.

"If you cared about me, you would have stayed. You would not have left me in the unknown, running to and fro with only this tent!"

"If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have come back."

"You wouldn't have left me after I told you I needed you."

"I wouldn't have heard your voice from the Deluminator. I told you, Hermione, I wanted to _die_ the moment I realized I couldn't get back."

"You would have stayed to protect me."

"I was a selfish bastard! What else do you want to hear from me? Because there was nothing redeemable about me when I left you. I was every curse word, every undeserving adjective."

"You were."

I watched her carefully, cracks showing in her iron facade.

"You left me."

"I did."

"And you came back...because you care about me."

"Yes."

She stared at me for a few moments before standing and slowly backing away from me. "No. I can't do this to myself. I can't let you do this to me again."

"Hermione—"

"Don't 'Hermione' me with that sad little hurt tone! You _left_ me. You can't act like I'm the guilty party. You left me once before for Lavender Brown, but I thought we understood each other this time. And then you did it again for God knows what reason."

"I thought you were—"

"I don't care what you thought! I'm not letting you in."

I took one step closer to her. She took one more back. I kept walking until she was pressing her back against the counter. I stood a foot away from her, not allowing her to escape me.

"You already have," I said, staring at her intently.

"What?" she whispered back.

"You've already let me back in. You did the moment you argued with me. The moment you let go of yourself and became comfortable enough to yell at me again."

She shook her head weakly, eyes darting back forth between mine and the floor.

"You let me in when you told me what was really bothering you. You didn't think you did; you thought you were being strong, fighting. You let me in to the deepest part of you without even knowing."

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "I didn't."

"You're worried that I don't love you."

Her mouth opened and closed.

I swallowed, praying that I was right. "Don't even bother to deny it. I knew it the moment you brought up that silly girl, Lavender Brown. You're so scared that I don't love you that you'll shut yourself off and become half a Hermione just so you can maintain your dignity."

"What do you know?"

"I read you as easily as you read that book you left on the couch over there." I took another step closer. She didn't move. "I've been your best friend since we were eleven. I know you. You're afraid."

Feebly, she said, "If you read me so well, you would have known I wasn't choosing Harry over you."

"That fucking locket—"

"Language, Ronald."

"That locket messed about with my head. When you were nice, the locket said you were hiding something. Every time you spoke to Harry, the two of you were hiding an affair. I struggled with it constantly. I didn't want to wear it because I knew what I doing to you when I was wearing it."

One tear slipped over her eyelid as she bit her lower lip.

"I acted like I didn't love you, and I hated that. Because now you're afraid of something you shouldn't be."

Her lips parted, her breathing coming faster and I struggled to share what Fleur had insisted would work.

"Because I've loved you forever."

I'd practiced in front of my mirror at Shell Cottage for so long, the words slipped out as easily as if I'd told her what kind of tea I like, but my heart beat so quickly I thought it would stop.

"And I want to start over with you. Now that you know my deepest secret, there's absolutely nothing that will keep me from you."

She took in one rattling breath. "No."

"No?" I asked in disbelief, taking a step back. I'd done what I thought I had to. I told her what she should know. What else did she want?

"No! You can't!" she yelled. "You can't just start over! We _always_ start over. After the troll, we started over. After Buckbeak's trial, we started over. After you were poisoned, we started over. I can't keep starting over with you and losing the only thing that's kept us together this long."

"What's that?"

"History. We have all this history that you just want to erase. We can't keep doing that. I can't. I won't let you erase us."

I took a step closer. "So we'll deal with it. I think I can handle a little history, especially if I'm writing it."

She nodded, hair hiding her eyes as she looked to the floor. I brushed it away. "You're beautiful."

"Stop it," she said, slapping my hand away. "You're still in trouble. You're not allowed to tell me I'm attractive."

"You're much more than—"

"Stop it," she said louder, though I was sure I saw her start to smile.

"No more lies," I said seriously, dipping a toe in to test the waters.

"Not too much truth either."

I laughed and held up two hands in surrender. "Alright." I took two steps back and she side-stepped around me and went back to the couch, retreating into silence.

This time, though, I was almost positive I wouldn't have to convince her to talk to me again.


End file.
